If I could save fall in a bottle, I'd lock it away with a key

Lindsay Goins

Published: Thursday, October 24, 2013 at 12:30 a.m.

Last Modified: Wednesday, October 23, 2013 at 7:52 p.m.

Pumpkin spice. Caramel apples. Crunchy leaves. Chilly air. Warm soup. Rich colors. Cozy sweaters. Bonfires. Football games. The county fair. These are some of the things that first enter my mind when I think about fall.

I feel butterflies in my stomach at the first sign of pumpkin spice, the first mustard-colored cardigan hanging on a clothing rack and the first beautifully colored leaf that goes whisking by. I feel odd, not only because I notice these things, but because I tend to obsess over them. I continue ordering that pumpkin spice latte long after I'm tired of it. I continue purchasing mustard-colored clothing and accessories to the point that everything I own is mustard-colored, and I walk around looking like I could use a little ketchup in my life. I gaze longingly after that falling leaf, so much that I run into a pole or an innocent bystander.

Now, you are thinking that I'm crazy. Normally I'd agree. However, after pointing out some of my fall indulgences to friends and family, I realize that I'm not alone. I have to wonder, though. Do I really enjoy fall because of these seemingly superficial things, or is it something more that I'm after?

When I was young, my Granny Peggy lived on South Main Street beside the old Christo's Pizza, which is now Kabuki. My cousins and I were always spending time at her house, having sleepovers on the weekends. I remember a particular time before Thanksgiving when the leaves had been raked into a nice, neat pile in front of the rusty swing set (you see where this is headed). Somehow we came up with the bright idea to swing as high as we could and jump into the leaf pile.

I recall feeling that satisfying crunch of the leaves under me as I came plummeting down. Of course, I regretted that little stunt at the time because of the trouble we were in, but I'd give anything now to go back and experience those carefree days at Granny's house. Fall brings me back to those times.

When I was growing up, my dad had certain foods that were unquestionably his meals to make. He was the master at baking scratch-made buttermilk biscuits, chicken 'n' dumplings and, of course, stew. Dad would surprise us on a chilly, fall night by making a big ol' pot of oyster or salmon stew. I usually just got a huge bowl of buttery milk broth and filled it with half a sleeve of saltine crackers.

Some would say that I completely missed the point. However, when I think about walking into the kitchen and seeing that steamy pot of stew on a brisk evening, I'm comforted with the image of being at home with my mom and dad. Those were the days when life was much simpler. Fall brings me back to those times.

When I was in high school, I was in marching band all four years. Most people who know me realize that I'm not exactly a "sporty" person. In fact, I still don't completely understand all the rules to football (don't judge me). However, some of the fondest memories I have are connected with putting on my band uniform and playing clarinet on Friday nights.

There's just something about a high school football game. The chilly air, the hum of the lights, the screaming fans, the smell of cheese fries — and, most of all, the feeling of taking that first step onto the football field to perform the halftime marching show. Some called me a "nerd" or "band geek," but I still long for the nights when my legs were exhausted from standing on those hard metal bleachers, and my mouth was sore from blasting "Let's Go Green!" as loud as I could. Fall brings me back to those times.

I attended college in Boone (go Apps!). It was always a huge shock to me that a place could go from having a such a mellow summer to a harsh winter so quickly. However, I've learned that there's a "sweet spot" in the season when the leaves are perfectly colored, so much that just looking up the mountain will absolutely take your breath away.

I began dating my husband when I was in my junior year, and he would come up to visit me on weekends. One of our favorite things to do was drive up to the top of Howard's Knob and check out all the fall color. We paused, taking time to enjoy the scenery around us. With all the worries and stress of college life, it was nice to find peace in the open mountain air. He and I still sit around after a long, hard week and gush about the lazy weekends we spent falling in love in Boone. Fall brings me back to those times.

After reflecting, I think I understand why I enjoy this time of year so much. It isn't the crunchy leaves, the warm soup, the chilly air, the football games, the pumpkins or even the colors. It's all about the memories that I cling to, year after year, that keep me going. Bob Dylan wrote, "Take care of all your memories, for you cannot relive them." I agree wholeheartedly, but for some reason during the fall I feel a little closer to reliving the memories I hold so dearly.

If I could save fall in a bottle

The first thing that I'd like to do

Is bring back the good times that I used to have

And the people that made them good, too

If I could save fall in a bottle

I'd lock it away with a key

So when I am lost inside of my head

I can let some cool air and leaves free

If I could save fall in a bottle

There'd never be a reason to frown

I'd pop that cork, and take a deep quick break

From the chaos that is all around

If I could save fall in a bottle

My memories would always be near

But for now I'll sip this pumpkin latte'

And enjoy my favorite time of year.

Lindsay Goins is a wife, daughter and teacher. She hopes to have inspired you to pick out some of your favorite fall memories and put them in a bottle for safekeeping.

<p>Pumpkin spice. Caramel apples. Crunchy leaves. Chilly air. Warm soup. Rich colors. Cozy sweaters. Bonfires. Football games. The county fair. These are some of the things that first enter my mind when I think about fall.</p><p>I feel butterflies in my stomach at the first sign of pumpkin spice, the first mustard-colored cardigan hanging on a clothing rack and the first beautifully colored leaf that goes whisking by. I feel odd, not only because I notice these things, but because I tend to obsess over them. I continue ordering that pumpkin spice latte long after I'm tired of it. I continue purchasing mustard-colored clothing and accessories to the point that everything I own is mustard-colored, and I walk around looking like I could use a little ketchup in my life. I gaze longingly after that falling leaf, so much that I run into a pole or an innocent bystander.</p><p>Now, you are thinking that I'm crazy. Normally I'd agree. However, after pointing out some of my fall indulgences to friends and family, I realize that I'm not alone. I have to wonder, though. Do I really enjoy fall because of these seemingly superficial things, or is it something more that I'm after? </p><p>When I was young, my Granny Peggy lived on South Main Street beside the old Christo's Pizza, which is now Kabuki. My cousins and I were always spending time at her house, having sleepovers on the weekends. I remember a particular time before Thanksgiving when the leaves had been raked into a nice, neat pile in front of the rusty swing set (you see where this is headed). Somehow we came up with the bright idea to swing as high as we could and jump into the leaf pile.</p><p>I recall feeling that satisfying crunch of the leaves under me as I came plummeting down. Of course, I regretted that little stunt at the time because of the trouble we were in, but I'd give anything now to go back and experience those carefree days at Granny's house. Fall brings me back to those times.</p><p>When I was growing up, my dad had certain foods that were unquestionably his meals to make. He was the master at baking scratch-made buttermilk biscuits, chicken 'n' dumplings and, of course, stew. Dad would surprise us on a chilly, fall night by making a big ol' pot of oyster or salmon stew. I usually just got a huge bowl of buttery milk broth and filled it with half a sleeve of saltine crackers.</p><p>Some would say that I completely missed the point. However, when I think about walking into the kitchen and seeing that steamy pot of stew on a brisk evening, I'm comforted with the image of being at home with my mom and dad. Those were the days when life was much simpler. Fall brings me back to those times.</p><p>When I was in high school, I was in marching band all four years. Most people who know me realize that I'm not exactly a "sporty" person. In fact, I still don't completely understand all the rules to football (don't judge me). However, some of the fondest memories I have are connected with putting on my band uniform and playing clarinet on Friday nights.</p><p>There's just something about a high school football game. The chilly air, the hum of the lights, the screaming fans, the smell of cheese fries — and, most of all, the feeling of taking that first step onto the football field to perform the halftime marching show. Some called me a "nerd" or "band geek," but I still long for the nights when my legs were exhausted from standing on those hard metal bleachers, and my mouth was sore from blasting "Let's Go Green!" as loud as I could. Fall brings me back to those times.</p><p>I attended college in Boone (go Apps!). It was always a huge shock to me that a place could go from having a such a mellow summer to a harsh winter so quickly. However, I've learned that there's a "sweet spot" in the season when the leaves are perfectly colored, so much that just looking up the mountain will absolutely take your breath away.</p><p>I began dating my husband when I was in my junior year, and he would come up to visit me on weekends. One of our favorite things to do was drive up to the top of Howard's Knob and check out all the fall color. We paused, taking time to enjoy the scenery around us. With all the worries and stress of college life, it was nice to find peace in the open mountain air. He and I still sit around after a long, hard week and gush about the lazy weekends we spent falling in love in Boone. Fall brings me back to those times.</p><p>After reflecting, I think I understand why I enjoy this time of year so much. It isn't the crunchy leaves, the warm soup, the chilly air, the football games, the pumpkins or even the colors. It's all about the memories that I cling to, year after year, that keep me going. Bob Dylan wrote, "Take care of all your memories, for you cannot relive them." I agree wholeheartedly, but for some reason during the fall I feel a little closer to reliving the memories I hold so dearly.</p><p><I>If I could save fall in a bottle</I></p><p><I>The first thing that I'd like to do</I></p><p><I>Is bring back the good times that I used to have</I></p><p><I>And the people that made them good, too</I></p><p><I>If I could save fall in a bottle</I></p><p><I>I'd lock it away with a key</I></p><p><I>So when I am lost inside of my head</I></p><p><I>I can let some cool air and leaves free</I></p><p><I>If I could save fall in a bottle</I></p><p><I>There'd never be a reason to frown</I></p><p><I>I'd pop that cork, and take a deep quick break</I></p><p><I>From the chaos that is all around</I></p><p><I>If I could save fall in a bottle</I></p><p><I>My memories would always be near</I></p><p><I>But for now I'll sip this pumpkin latte'</I></p><p><I>And enjoy my favorite time of year.</I></p><p>Lindsay Goins is a wife, daughter and teacher. She hopes to have inspired you to pick out some of your favorite fall memories and put them in a bottle for safekeeping.</p>